


That Short Forever

by WhiskyInMind (MomentsLost)



Series: run from the darkness in the night... [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-31
Updated: 2010-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-09 20:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MomentsLost/pseuds/WhiskyInMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Setting: mid-way through an alternate season 4</p>
    </blockquote>





	That Short Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: mid-way through an alternate season 4

The whiskey was supposed to numb the pain; it wasn't working. Maybe he'd built up a tolerance to it - the whiskey that was, not the pain. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that. Getting shot hurt like a son of a bitch. Having to get patched up like this? Hurt more.

Dean took a long pull from the fast-emptying bottle of Wild Turkey and closed his eyes as she dug into his shoulder, searching for that errant piece of lead. Faith was muttering angrily as she worked and he knew her anger was directed at him rather than the shooter. And that? Really not fair, after all wasn't he the one who had the newly burned hole in his upper body? It wasn't like it was his fault.

"Got it," she said finally, holding the offending slug up to the light. It caught the light a little, fascinating Dean and as he gazed up at it he saw Faith staring at it in something akin to wonder.

Their eyes met and for a moment nothing needed to be said. A perfect moment. Pain, grief, worry, fear - all forgotten for that short forever.

Eventually, Faith dropped the spent bullet onto the table. "You ever pull a stunt like that again, and you're on your own." Her voice was low, a warning growled through something deeper - fear.

Dean blinked as a pit opened in his stomach. "Not planning on making it a habit, you know."

Her eyes flicked over his scars - all of them recent, after his two-way trip to Hell, he'd been smooth as a baby's bottom - and she didn't have to say anything.

"'Sides, what was I gonna do? Let you get hit?"

"Slayer speed remember? And hell, even if it had got me, Slayer healing."

"Yeah, well…" He looked down to see the bullet lying between them in a circle of blood (_his blood, better that than hers_).

"Cut the bull," Faith snapped. "I've had about enough of this self-sacrificing crap. You wanna kill yourself? Go right ahead, but don't kid yourself you're saving me or anyone else when you do it. The last thing I need right now is a suicidal jerk-off taking the easy way out." Anger flared up in Dean but she carried on regardless. "Like you did to Sam."

"Shut up." He barely recognized his own voice as he snarled.

"Make me."

They stared at each other, at an impasse. Dean knew no one could _make_ Faith do anything she didn't want to, but she'd crossed a line. Bringing up Sam like that? That was a hit so far below the belt it was somewhere around the ankles.

It had been twenty-nine days and eighteen hours since Dean had walked away. Since he'd turned his back on everything that had ever meant anything to him. Since he'd abandoned his family.

But was Sam family now? Dean didn't know who Sam _was_ anymore, not now. How the hell could he when he wasn't even sure who _Dean_ was?

Finding Faith again had seemed like the perfect answer. Working with a Slayer, 'fighting the good fight' as she put it, getting back to basics and hunting down the evil sons of bitches that had made him what he was.

That had made Sam what _he_ was.

Faith was right, and Dean wasn't even trying to hide it from himself: he was trying to take the easy way out - go out in a blaze of glory, doing the right thing. But what was the right thing?

He looked away.


End file.
